Sightings Over Sixty

3 Medical Opinions

2013-06-19T07:18:00.000-04:00

I was sitting at my computer this morning when suddenly from the kitchen I heard B yelp, "Oww!" Then she followed up in a pained voice, "Oh, I knew that was going to happen."

"Are you okay?" I called.

I don't care if it hurts, it works!

     "Yeah, I just cut myself with this stupid knife."

     I got up and walked through to the kitchen. She was holding her finger. It didn't look serious. "Here," I said, "let me get you some alcohol." I happened to have a bottle on top of my cabinet.

   "No, I'm just getting a Band-Aid," she said as she turned the corner into the downstairs bathroom.

   "Really, let me get you some alcohol," I pressed. "You don't want it to get infected."

     "No!" she insisted. "Alcohol hurts!"

     "Yeah," I replied. "That's how you know it's working!"

     "Oh, don't be ridiculous," she sniffed. "How old fashioned can you be?"

     So I then offered to find her some hydrogen peroxide, a disinfectant that doesn't hurt. But by then she had the Band-Aid on her finger and was heading upstairs to get dressed for work.

My soft picks

     Okay, let's stop for a moment here. I submit for your consideration: What do they use when you're at the doctor's office and you get a shot, or some blood drawn? They give you a cotton swab soaked in what else . . . alcohol! So alcohol must be the best, most effective antiseptic. QED.

     Why? Because, I still maintain: If it hurts, that means it's working!

     Now if you're ready to take more medical advice from me, after hearing this little story, let me recommend to you these tiny little toothbrushes you use to clean between the teeth. They are called interdental brushes, or "soft picks" if they're disposable.

     My dentist suggested them to me about a year ago, when I'd gone to her after yet another filling disintegrated, leaving a hole in my tooth that required the installation of a crown. You use these mini-brushes instead of flossing (although I still floss sometimes, too). And from my experience, they work great. Also . . . they are more fun to use!

A panoply of pain relievers

     Finally, I ran across this New York Times article about pain relievers. This is a topic near and dear to my heart, so to speak, not because I have heart problems, but because I do take Advil and aspirin for my aching right ankle and my sometimes-painful left knee.

     I used to take Aleve for my pinched nerve. But I stopped using Aleve because I heard it was associated with heart problems among long-time users. And, besides, my pinched nerve got better, mostly because I went to physical therapy and kept up the exercises afterwards.

     I still don't know which pain reliever is the safest and best to use. If anyone has any further information, or expert opinion, I'd love to hear it. But I guess the best advice is to use as much as you need, but no more than you need.

     Come to think of it, that's probably good advice for any drug or medication.

I Apply for Medicare, Part I

2013-06-16T11:25:00.001-04:00

     My ex-wife is a year older than I am. Last year she turned 65 and applied for Medicare. I remember at one point asking her about the whole process of signing up for Medicare. How do you apply? Is it complicated? How do you know what coverage you're getting?

     She told me not to worry. A few months before you turn 65 you start receiving all kinds of information in the mail. She'd looked over the basics. "Then I was able to sit down with an insurance agent who specializes in Medicare," she told me, "and he explained the whole system to me. He said he gets paid by the insurance companies, so it didn't cost me a thing."

     So I didn't worry. And now this year, in advance of my own 65th birthday, I expected to start receiving lots of literature in the mail, inviting me to join Medicare, showing me how to do it, and explaining all the benefits. I didn't know who it would come from. The government? My insurance company? It wouldn't be from my employer. I no longer have an employer. My company started shedding employees in the 1990s, and got around to shedding me in 2002, so I've been on my own for the last decade.

     The calendar turned over, and the months came and went, but I heard not a word from anybody. Maybe my ex-wife was wrong, I thought. Maybe she got information in the mail, because of where she lives, or because of her insurance company, or because she's a woman. But that doesn't necessarily mean everyone gets information in the mail.

     I started worrying. Maybe, somehow, I've dropped off the the Medicare "membership" list. Maybe my name got lost in the computer. Maybe they forgot about me!?!

     So I finally decided I'd better find out. I realize that for many of you this is "old hat." You've been through all this already. But anyway, like the modern tech-savvy person I am, I typed "How to apply for Medicare" into google. I found lots of general information. There's Part A which is free, and it "helps pay" for inpatient care in a hospital. There's Part B which you pay for, and that "helps pay" for doctor services.

     Well, that's pretty good, I thought, but also pretty vague. I found a link for Medicare Premiums and found out my premium for Part B would be $104.90 a month, as long as my MAGI is $85,000 or less. I know what MAGI means (Modified Adjusted Gross Income), although I'm not sure how to calculate it. But I'm pretty sure my MAGI is less than $85,000 so I'm not going to worry about it.

   This is getting awfully complicated, I realized. And since I really couldn't find out any specifics, I decided to call the Medicare 800 number, which is 1-800-772-1213. I understood what Parts A and B are, at least in theory. They pay for the majority of your doctor and hospital bills. But I wanted to know some of the particulars. Would they pay for my next colonoscopy? What if I needed surgery on my bad knee? Would it make a difference if I went to the hospital, or had it done in the doctor's office? Could I go to a specialist if the specialist wasn't in my medical group?

     Plus, what about Parts C and D? What's the difference between the various Medicare Advantage programs, and the Medigap program?

   I negotiated the Medicare phone tree. I finally got to the option to talk with a real person. Then an automated voice announced the wait would be 10 minutes. Arghh! I must admit, I was too impatient. I didn't want to wait and so I hung up.

   I called my own current medical insurance company. Maybe they could help.

   I negotiated the phone tree and eventually got a very nice lady on the phone. She spoke with a fairly heavy accent, but I understood most of what she was saying. Yes, my insurance company could provide me with a backup plan. There's a PPO plan and an HMO plan. Actually, there are four different PPO plans, and a couple of HMO plans. "What''s your i.d. number?" she began.

   The woman stayed on the phone with me for a good 15 or 20 minutes, trying to explain the basics of the different plans. But I had plenty of questions. How do I find out if my doctor is in the HMO network? She gave me a link on the website. How much would it cost? It depends what plan I picked, and what county I live in. Does the plan cover drugs? One of the plans does; another doesn't. She wasn't sure about the others. Are there any dental benefits? Again, it depends on the plan.

   What if I moved? Like many retirees and pre-retirees, B and I are thinking of moving in a few years, probably to a different state. She told me that their plan was only good in my state. If I moved I'd have to switch plans.

     I confess, I got tired of the conversation before the woman did. She must be used to people asking dumb questions. She finally offered to send me some published materials that would provide me with all the details. It would take about ten days or two weeks to get to me.

   The woman did tell me one concrete and crucial thing. Regardless of what else I did, I should apply for Medicare Plans A and B. And I should do it right away, because if I waited and missed the deadlines, then there are restrictions about when you can apply, and I may be subject to higher rates ... for the rest of my life.

     You can apply by telephone (at the above 800 number), or in person. But I went back on the website where you apply for Medicare. I found the application. I filled it out. It was pretty easy.

     And so as of right now, I await confirmation that I'm accepted into Medicare. And I await some materials in the mail which will presumably inform me what else I need to do to get more than the basic Medicare Parts A and B coverage.

     I'd worried that I'd somehow fallen out of the system, or that it might be hard to sign up for Medicare. Bottom line: Don't worry, it's easy to sign up. But it is hard to find out exactly what you're signing up for, and to figure out what kind of backup medical insurance you should get.

     More on that in Part II, after I've had a chance to look over those materials.

Mad Men Love Baby Boomers

2013-06-13T09:41:00.000-04:00

     I saw an ad on TV the other day for Lenscrafters Featherwates that features the song "Up on the Roof" and made me think once again of how often our advertisers hark back to the 1950s, '60s and '70s for their background music. It just makes you think: even in our youth-obsessed culture we Baby Boomers are still relevant!

     Actually, one of my first blog posts, The '60s Live Forever in Ads in Nov. 2010, focused on this very phenomenon. But there's lots more to report on since then.

     An ad for the 2014 Chevy Impala features Frank Sinatra's 1964 song "Fly Me to the Moon."

     Stevie Wonder's 1972 tune "Superstition" provides the background music for a Bud Light commercial.

     Target went back even further, to 1958 and Connie Francis singing "Fallin'" for an ad about a line of clothes.

   AT&T rounded up several oldies, from John Denver to Creedence Clearwater Revival for their Road Music 4G ad.

     Or, how about this R-rated ad for Carl's Junior and Hardee's charboiled fish sandwich with Bobby Darin singing his 1959 version of "Beyond the Sea" ... and, oh yeah, featuring supermodel Nina Agdal.

   Mercedes Benz used the Rolling Stones "Sympathy for the Devil" in its 2013 Superbowl ad.

     And then there's this ad, for the Budweiser Clydesdales, which ran during the 2013 Superbowl. I'm sure you'll recognize Stevie Nicks and her 1975 hit "Landslide."

Best of Boomer Blogs: Final Exam Edition

2013-06-09T17:39:00.000-04:00

How many of us are aware that school is ending for the year? Yes, it's time to cram for finals. Did you ever pull an all-nighter? And then . . . school is out for the summer!

I don't mean to imply that the Best of Boomer Blogs is ending. Not at all. We are Boomers. We are strong! I'm only saying that, like final exams, this is important, this is crucial, this could determine your grades for the whole semester -- and whether you get into college or grad school. The rest of your life depends on how closely you study this edition of the BBB!

Well, not quite. But here, from the Blogging Boomers, are some very thoughtful and interesting essays on a core curriculum of courses. Feel free to explain and expound.

Math: At her blog The Generation Above Me, Karen clarifies the distinction between life span and life expectancy. The oldest documented person lived to be 122. Average life expectancy depends a great deal on environmental factors and life style choices. Currently it's 77 in the U. S. measured from birth, but higher for those who reach midlife.

Science: On The Survive and Thrive Boomer Guide, Rita R. Robison, consumer journalist, writes about global and American efforts to reduce food waste. Her article – “Are You Wasting Food?” – also offers a link to cut food waste. Use the right storage techniques, purchase only what you need, and match the serving size to what those being served will eat are some of the recommendations.

English Lit: In Beauty Is Truth, Lisa Garon Froman reflects on the value of living in truth and being authentic. It's part of the overall message of her blog, Tao Flashes, that chronicles a "woman's way to navigating the midlife journey with integrity, harmony and grace."

Psychology: Laura Lee, aka The Midlife Crisis Queen, says in Whose Life Have You Been Living? that one of our most important psychological tasks in midlife is taking back ownership of our own lives.

Also, from Laura Lee, don't miss the good news about online dating.

Economics: Meanwhile John Agno at So Baby Boomer reports to us that 52% of 1946 Baby Boomers Are Fully Retired. For extra credit go to Agno's post Baby Boomer Retirement Tips.

Okay, now that exams are over . . .

Remember Her?

2013-06-07T08:23:00.000-04:00

     Do you what what happened 30 years ago this month?

   Here's a hint. The woman in question was once asked, "Do you weep when things go wrong on the job?" And, "Do you think your [trip] will affect your reproductive organs?"

   She was a California girl. Her father taught political science at Santa Monica College, and her mother volunteered at a women's correctional facility. Both her parents were elders at their Presbyterian church, and her sister later became a Presbyterian minister.

   She was a smart kid, right from the beginning. She won a scholarship to a private high school in Los Angeles, where she showed particular promise in the sciences and became nationally ranked in juniors tennis. She graduated from high school in 1968 and decided to head east to Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania. But after three semesters she felt the pull back to California, so she first went home and took some physics courses at UCLA, then transferred to Stanford, graduating with a dual degree in English and physics. She then continued at Stanford and earned a master's degree in physics in 1975 and a PhD in physics in 1978.

Stanford University

     As she was finishing up her PhD, she answered an employment ad in the newspaper ... along with about 8,000 other applicants. She became one of 35 people offered a job at NASA -- 29 men and 6 women -- and started training to be an astronaut. She was a ground-based capsule communicator for the second flight of the Space Shuttle in 1981, and again for the third Space Shuttle in 1982.

     On June 18, 1983, now 30 years ago, she became the first American woman in space, as one of a five-member crew aboard the Space Shuttle Challenger, the 7th Space Shuttle flight. Among her accomplishments, she used the Challenger robot arm to retrieve a satellite.

   In 1984 she flew into space a second time, again aboard the Challenger, and before the flight was over she had logged some 343 hours in space.

   In January 1986 she was eight months into training for her third space flight, slated to also be aboard the Challenger, when the Challenger broke apart 73 seconds into its flight, killing all seven of its crew members including teacher Christa McAuliffe and fellow female astronaut Judith Resnick.

     The now-veteran astronaut, Sally Ride, was named to the Rogers Commission which investigated the crash and determined it was O-ring failure that caused the explosion. Following this assignment, Ride moved to Washington, DC, to head up NASA's strategic planning efforts.

     In 1987 Ride left NASA and went to work in international security at Stanford University. In 1989 she became a physics professor at University of California, San Diego, as well as director of the University of California Space Institute. She continued to work with NASA in promoting science education and founded Sally Ride Science, a company that creates interesting science programs for middle school kids. She also co-authored several books on space, aiming to encourage children to study science.

     Sally Ride married fellow astronaut Steve Hawley in 1982. They had no children, and divorced in 1987. She had a partner, Tam O'Shaughnessy, a science teacher and long-time friend who co-wrote her books and who later become an executive at Sally Ride Science.

   At the beginning of 2011 Ride was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She died on July 23, 2012, at the age of 61. America's first female astronaut was always a little uneasy about her fame, and wanted to keep her private life private, from her sexuality to her battle with cancer. But she nevertheless won many awards and citations, and just last month President Obama announced she would be awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, to be presented to her family later this year.

On the Road ... Honestly

2013-06-05T10:20:00.000-04:00

     I was driving into Brooklyn over the weekend to help my daughter move out of her apartment. She's leaving New York City and going to Buffalo. (Don't ask; that's another post.)

    On the way in, driving down the Brooklyn/Queens Expressway, I was in a line of traffic in the middle lane, doing 60 mph. A car zipped by me on the left. It was white; an older model. I think it was a Lexus, but I'm not sure. Proudly displayed on the back windshield was one of those college signs. It said: Virginia Law.

   I don't actually know what the speed limit is on the BQE. Probably 55 mph; it could be less. So this white car with Virginia Law on the back was definitely speeding. The driver was male; kind of young, but I didn't get a good look.

     After he went by me, he pulled up behind a car ahead of us in the left-hand lane. He had to brake to slow down. Then he proceeded to tailgate that car for the next mile or two. You could see his brake lights winking on and off -- he was so close to the car ahead of him, he had to tap the brakes again and again so as not to hit the rear end.

     Finally, the guy in the white Lexus veered into the middle lane, without using his blinker, and passed the person he was tailgating. He sped up, closed the gap with the next car, then moved into the right lane to pass, until he was blocked by another car. The last I saw of the guy he was tailgating the car in the right lane, brake lights pulsating on and off.

     Now I could be wrong, but I figure the driver is probably a law student, driving his parents' old car. Or maybe he's a recent law school grad, a newly minted lawyer. And I could only wonder: Is this what they teach you at Virginia Law, or at any law school? To flout the law, intimidate fellow drivers, endanger others as well as yourself?

   Later, on the way home, my car stuffed full of my daughter's boxes and suitcases, I was traveling northbound on the Taconic Parkway, where I know the speed limit is 55 mph, but where everyone does 60 - 65. I again was in the middle lane, doing 60 or a little more. Yes, I know I'm admitting here that I was speeding. But at 5 - 8 mph over the speed limit, I am almost always the slowest person on the highway.

   For some reason, we all tolerate speeding. Aside from a few Speed Kills signs, and a speed trap here and there, the authorities seem to pretty much ignore traffic infractions on our highways. And people in general must perceive that the risk of speeding is extremely minor, or nonexistent, because they ignore posted speed limits.

     Anyway, going home, I'm in the middle lane of the Taconic. An older model SUV speeds by me in the left-hand lane, doing at least 70 and probably 75 mph. It was a woman driver, alone in the car. I noticed several bumper stickers on her back fender. One of them said something about saving animals, and the most prominent proclaimed: War Is Not the Answer.

     It's nice sentiment, I thought, one we could all agree on. But again, I couldn't help but note the irony ... or perhaps the hypocrisy? I wondered how the woman squares her philosophy with her behavior. There she is, doing 70+ in her SUV, getting about 15 mpg, with American troops stationed all over the Muslim world. Those troops are there for a number of reasons, to be sure, but one of the main reasons is to protect and secure our oil supplies -- which she was blithely using up at a pretty good rate.

     Now I know one gas guzzler doesn't make much difference. But I thought her bumper sticker should more honestly read: War Is Not the Answer: The Arabs Should Give Up Their Oil Without a Fight.

What, Me Worry About Retirement?

2013-06-02T10:37:00.000-04:00

     I remember back in the late 1970s when I interviewed for a job at the company where I eventually went to work, everyone there bragged to me about the great benefits that were offered. The company had its issues -- the office was out in the middle of nowhere, and the company wasn't considered the leader in its industry -- but the pay was pretty good. And there were those benefits.

     Honestly, at the time, I didn't give a hoot about the benefits. I needed a job! So okay, it was nice to have good medical insurance. But what did I care? I was young and healthy. And when you're 30, who even thinks about retirement? The idea was laughable to me.

     Then the years went by. And boy oh boy, by the time I left, I sure was happy that I'd been included in their great retirement package. To be honest, it wasn't as great as it had been, back in the 1970s and '80s; and I didn't get the whole package because I got laid off before I qualified for retirement. But still, it was a lot better than what I would have done on my own.

     Most young workers probably never think about retirement. It's such a vague notion, and so far off. People are focused on starting their careers; then starting families, buying a house, and buying things for their kids, and maybe opening up a college fund.

     Even if retirement does somehow make it onto your radar screen in your 30s or 40s, it's hard to save money when you have so many pressing immediate needs -- especially if you're trying to raise a family on $40K or $50K a year, as a lot of people are.

     When I started working, there was no such thing as an IRA or a 401K plan. Those saving plans at least do help people face the reality that there is such a thing as retirement in their future. Would it help if high schools and colleges required courses on personal finance, so people learn the skills necessary to save and invest for their future? It might. But not everyone has a "head" for money ... just like not everyone can draw, or play music, or are good at math.

   I know some friends and relatives -- people in their 50s and 60s -- who have absolutely no concept of how they will support themselves in retirement. They readily admit they have little to no financial knowledge, and no ability to make investment decisions. Some of these people -- those who are smart and realistic about it -- have hired a financial adviser to help them negotiate through the thicket of financial options. But finding an honest and upfront financial adviser is about as easy as finding a good car mechanic. Yes, they're out there; but they're hard to find.

   So what can we make of all this?

   Saving money is hard. So is eating your vegetables and doing your exercise. But we should all do it, one way or another. And if we don't, we're going to pay the price.

   Let's face it, investing your savings is not all that difficult. (You've heard of the low-cost index mutual fund, haven't you?). All you need is the ability to do math at about the 10th-grade level; along with some healthy skepticism about the advertising, marketing and salesmanship that you see on the subject. And there is plenty of material out there to help you get educated, starting with John Bogle. Nevertheless, some people are just not interested; or they have a blind spot about money. And so these people really should find themselves a good finance mechanic. (If they're lucky, they have one at their place of work, in the form of a good retirement program.)

   Also, just maybe it makes sense for some lower income people not to try to save too much for retirement . . . and not feel bad if they can't. If you're scraping by, living hand-to-mouth, when you're in your 40s, you'll probably be scraping by, living hand-to-mouth, when you're in your 70s.

    According to Social Security statistics, "among elderly Social Security beneficiaries, 53% of married couples and 74% of unmarried persons receive 50% or more of their income from Social Security." And "23% of married couples and about 46% of unmarried persons rely on Social Security for 90% or more of their income."

     Does it help to try to make people feel guilty about it? Nobody ever promised that Social Security was going to afford us a comfortable retirement, just that it would keep a roof over our head and a meal on the table. We always knew if we wanted to travel, that would be on our own dime.

    Finally, while a lot of people brag and boast about being able to retire in their 50s, there's no reason why anyone should feel bad, or feel like a "failure" if they can't afford to retire at age 55 or 60, or 62, or even 66. My own dad worked until he was 72. He didn't suffer for it. I have some friends today who find it rewarding -- and who also gain some self-respect and direction in their lives -- while still working into their late 60s and early 70s, even if it's not a high-paying career-type job.

     I guess what I'm saying is, there seems to be so much pressure on us these days about retirement. Maybe because Baby Boomers are starting to retire, it's become a bigger subject, because everything Baby Boomers do becomes a bigger subject. But let's not have a heart attack about it.

Are You a Mark, or a Rob?

2013-05-29T12:41:00.000-04:00

     In her book In the Woods, Tana French's main character, Detective Rob Ryan, comes upon an archeologist in the course of his investigation. The archeologist's name is Mark and he's young, well-educated and sure of himself. Rob admits that Mark makes him feel anxious and unwilling to cooperate. Why? Because, "men like him -- men who are obviously interested purely in what they think of other people, not in what other people think if them -- have always made me violently insecure."

   It made me wonder, is all the world divided into people like Mark, who are "interested purely in what they think of other people," and their opposite, people more like Rob who are interested in what other people think of them?

     It seems pretty clear that the author doesn't think too highly of the Marks of the world. If you're a Mark are you self-centered? Self-involved? Narcissistic?

     Well, I'm afraid, I'm a Mark. Not that I'm young, or so sure of myself, but I am more interested in what I think of other people, rather than what they think of me.

     Don't ask me why. I guess I was brought up that way. "You don't have to do what everyone else is doing," my dad used to drill into me. "If everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge too?"

     The message, to me, was always to think for yourself. Don't follow the crowd. Don't worry so much about what everyone else thinks. Be your own man.

     So I developed a perspective (or it was developed for me) that I think it is, in fact, self-indulgent to worry about what other people think of you. What makes you so sure that everyone else is thinking about you at all? Do you consider yourself so important that everyone else is critiquing your every move? And even if they are, does that matter so much in life? No! You should know your own mind and chart your own course, regardless of what anyone else believes.

     Of course, this attitude was tempered during my adolescent years, when I was trying to be cool. And a least one way to be cool is to mimick other people who are cool. Follow the trend. Get with the in-crowd, and stick closely to their mores and morals. Dress like everyone else. And above all, worry about what other people think of you, and your clothes, and your car and your house and your taste in music.

   Well, I'm not even sure if that's how you get to be cool. As I've posted before, I tried to be cool, but never quite made it, until I finally figured out in my maturity that trying to be cool is a really dumb thing to try to do. My attitude adjustment was aided by having two children, who never missed an opportunity to remind me that I am not, never was, and never will be cool. (Although last weekend I went to the Smorgasburg in Brooklyn -- how cool is that!).

     Anyway, I wonder who will admit to being a Mark, and if they're proud of it or ashamed of it. And who will say they're a Rob?

     In the end maybe it doesn't matter. After all, I'm interested purely about what I think of other people. And I ended up with B -- who I think is great! And she's the opposite: she worries much more about what other people think of her. And I think she's great!

     So we get along just fine.

What Am I Doing in the Garden?

2013-05-25T12:46:00.002-04:00

     Is there any activity that you like to do, but you're just no good at? For me, it's gardening.

     I love being outdoors in the spring, breathing in the moist soft air, getting my hands dirty in the loamy soil, and dreaming about the flowers, vegetables and lush bushes that will soon adorn my property.

   So far this spring I've been out in the yard about a dozen times. I usually go for about two hours at a clip. I used to do more, but now my knees and my back will make me answer for any more work than that. Not to mention getting just totally exhausted if I do too much.

   But even as I've been digging and planting and fertilizing, I see how the weeds have already begun to encroach on my property. I have done some weeding. I pulled out probably a hundred dandelions (I actually like dandelions, except they do have a tendency to spread too much and too fast), as well as handfuls and handfuls of other Unidentified Weed-type Objects (UWOs).

     And that's what stops me. Right now the pretty green grass dominates the lawn. But I remember last year. In May my yard looked beautiful. By August it looked like a post-apocalyptic landscape choked with UWOs.

    There's no way to stop them, short of shooting Unidentified Spraying Liquids (USLs) equivalent to the entire annual production of Dow Chemical over your yard. And aside from my general concern with the environment, I have a well. I don't want to drink that stuff!

     Then there are the bugs. Again, I don't want to spray them with a tanker-load of USLs that the USDA probably outlawed in the 1970s after decimating the jungles of Vietnam. So I don't know what to do . . . other than watch the bugs wiggle and squirm along my plant leaves. I can almost hear them munching and belching and leaving their "trails" all over my yard.

     As if that's not enough, I have a woodchuck living under the shed. He (or she) is ready to pounce on any edible vegetable matter I try to grow on my little corner of earth. And the other day, when I cut the grass, I was reminded of the moles -- or whatever the heck they are -- that burrow through my lawn all spring, leaving the ground as bumpy as an old-fashioned washboard.

     I swear to you this happened: Last week I was bumping along so much, and so hard, I broke clear through the metal bar that holds the mowing deck on to my tractor. It's in the shop right now, getting fixed . . . resulting in a bill, no doubt, equivalent to the entire annual income of Dow Chemical.

     And yet, through all this -- the bugs, the animals, the UWOs -- my bushes and trees grow like they've tapped into some kind of underground radioactive fertilizing source. I can clip and prune with the best of them. Or so I think. But I know I am never ruthless enough. I can't bear to clip down as far as I'm supposed to go -- oh, that new growth looks so pretty, and so precious -- and so most of my bushes end up overgrown and leggy. Then they eventually get high enough that I can't even reach to trim the tops.

     Will this year finally be the year I break down and hire a lawn service? Most of my neighbors do (although not the fellow who lives directly across the street from me-- he's out there on a Saturday morning cutting the grass, just like a suburban dad is supposed to do!).

     I remember, back when I was younger and had a wife and family, and lived in a four-bedroom house on a nice suburban street, there was a woman who lived in the house down on the corner. I never met her. But many times I saw her out in her yard, cutting the grass and trimming her hedges, and I used to tease my wife about how that woman was a true feminist, and obviously a model wife and mother as well. (And I wonder why I got divorced?)

     Well, I haven't called the lawn service yet. I can't see paying $50 or $60 a pop, just to have someone mow the grass. Plus, that doesn't even cover all my UWO problems, and I know their only solution will be to spray enough USLs to turn my yard into the next Love Canal.

     So I'll go out there again (as soon as this horrid rainstorm that's been here for three days and left enough water to float Noah's Ark goes away) and try again. And I'll pretend I'm not the ancient Sisyphus pushing that boulder up the hill. I'm just your typical suburbanite trying to spruce up his yard.

     Besides . . . there are always the bulbs to plant in the fall.

No Sayings Like the Old Sayings

2013-05-22T08:29:00.001-04:00

     I read a book last week called The Good Dream by Donna VanLiere. It's a novel about a single woman who rescues a boy who had been living in the hills with a mean old guy who wasn't even his father. It takes place in Kentucky, circa 1950, and the best thing about it is the old sayings the author sprinkles like corn seed throughout the story.

     Here are a few choice examples (some of which I've adapted slightly). Read 'em. They're a hoot!

     * It's so hot out my chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs.

     * Some land is so rocky and barren it's about as useful as a back pocket on a shirt.

     * It's so dry out that the trees are bribing the dogs.

     *My gallbladder shook I laughed so hard.

    * That boy's so dirty a worm crawling out of the earth is cleaner than he is.

     *She's so cantankerous she could start an argument in an empty house.

     * He's so lazy he doesn't buy anything with a handle because it could mean work.

     * She's as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers.

     * The boy was so dirty he smelled like the underside of a donkey's tail.

     * The man shook hands, pumping on my hand long enough for water to shoot out of my mouth.

   Yep, I liked some of those old sayings . . . better than ice cream on a hot summer day. Have you heard any good ones lately?

. . . And Two Thumbs Down

2013-05-19T08:26:00.000-04:00

     I see the way kids are raised today. Honestly, it's not a whole lot different from the way we were raised -- maybe we've progressed a little. Most of the teens and 20-somethings I know aren't sneaking behind the garage to cop a cigarette, the way we were, and it truly seems that most of them watch less TV than we did.

   But there are two habits of theirs that drive me crazy.

   B's son comes over for dinner once every two weeks or so, depending on his schedule. It's good to see him, and it's nice that he still feels a connection strong enough with his mother that he makes the effort, even though he has a job, a girlfriend, his own friends and activities, his own apartment.

   But here's the thing. We're getting ready for dinner. B's preparing the food. I'm setting the table. And B's son sits at the table, completely ignoring us, tip tapping into his smart phone.

   We sit down for dinner. B asks a few questions of her son, who smiles and relates what he's been doing for the week, maybe a problem at work, or some friends he's seeing. And the conversation continues apace, until suddenly I notice that B and I talking together while her son is sitting there, looking down below the table, and again he's typing into his phone.

   His mother asks him politely to put his phone away, and he does, and the conversation goes on, until B and I are talking to each other again, and her son is back at his phone.

   Then he'll look up. "Oh, I have to go." He needs to meet someone, and get on the road for his next activity . . . having never really fully engaged in this current activity.

I don't mean to pick on B's son. All the 20-somethings do it -- they give you half their attention, while the other half is focused on their phone or tablet, and some other conversation, some other activity, some other circle of friends.

   My sister was in town last week, and we went to a wine bar to listen to some live music. At one point I noticed that the singer was blasting away on his guitar, singing his heart out about a love gone bad, and half the audience was aglow in the reflected light of their cellphones -- giving the band just half their attention.

     So that's one thumb down. What's the other? A related issue.

     I'm supposed to pick up my daughter at the train. She's moving and is coming out to the house to leave some of the stuff from her old apartment in our basement. That's fine. The problem is that I can't pin her down as to when she's actually coming. First it was Wednesday night. Then she emailed me that she couldn't make it. She'd come Friday instead, sometime after she woke up; it wouldn't be too early because she'd be out late, but she'd call me from the train.

     Okay, I emailed back, but how about calling me when she woke up so she could give me a couple of hours notice, instead of a few minutes, so I could plan my day. I didn't want to have to sit around all afternoon waiting for her.

     So Friday comes. No call by 11 a.m. No call by 1 p.m. No call by 3 p.m. I had a repairman coming over to the house around 5 or 5:30, and I needed to be here to talk to him. I started worrying that I'd be out picking up my daughter at 5 p.m. So, finally, I call her. Of course, she doesn't answer. No 20-something answers their cellphone. I leave a message. Please get on the train by 4 p.m., so I can pick you up and get back to the house by 5 p.m.

     Finally, she calls back. She's on the train. She'll be here by 4:45. I rush over to the station, I'm back for the repairman, and we all have dinner together.

     But why can't a 20-something make a plan and stick to it? If everything is fluid, everything changeable, everything subject to last-minute updates via text message or facebook, then nobody else can make a plan for their day . . . they have to sit around and wait for you.

     Again, I don't mean to pick on my daughter. All the 20-somethings do it. They skip from place to place, always connected by phone, never making plans, just jumping from one activity to another. (According to the recent Time magazine story on Millennials, 70 percent of 20-somethings check their cellphones hourly, "interacting all day long by taking 'selfie' photos and seeking constant approval -- 'Someone liked my status update!'")

     Oh, I guess I do have one more thumb down. Kids! When we call you, answer the damn phone!

   In the meantime, say what you want about Paul Lynde (1926 - 1982) -- but the guy could be pretty hilarious, especially when talking about kids.

Two Thumbs Up . . .

2013-05-15T15:19:00.000-04:00

     One thumb up is for Bob Lowry over at Satisfying Retirement who's now published his second book Living a Satisfying Retirement. It is based on a plethora of questions he asked fellow bloggers regarding various aspects of the retired life. The questions range from: What financial planning have you done to prepare for retirement? to: How do you fill up your day now that you're not working?

     So if you're looking for some answers to those thorny retirement questions, check out his book on amazon. Can't go too wrong for $2.99!

     The second thumbs up goes to Rachel Adelson who's written a book called Staying Power: Age-Proof Your Home for Comfort, Safety and Style. The science writer (and former IBMer) points out that over 90 percent of seniors live in conventional housing, as opposed to a senior-citizen facility. Some of the benefits of staying in your own home, or "aging in place" as it's sometimes called: It costs less, keeps you in familiar surroundings, and offers greater independence.

     She reminds people to research the services available in your communtity for aging in place. Often there is more than meets the eye, including support for transportation, nutrition, fitness and entertainment.

     Then her book offers all kinds of advice for age-proofing our homes -- in the same way we baby-proofed our homes when we had small children. A few of her suggestions:

     * Improve lighting in the bathroom and the kitchen, and especially on the stairs.

     * Affix traction tape along the front edge of your stairs, in contrasting colors, to help prevent falls.

     * Outfit your kitchen with easy-to-use tools and utensils.

     * Get rid of scatter rugs throughout the house.

     * Install grab bars in the bathroom, as well as a raised toilet seat to help people with bad knees or a bad back.

   I myself enthusiastically support her suggestions, especially the last one since I recently took a spill in my shower. I slipped as I was getting out, grabbed for the soap dish, and pulled it right out of the wall. I tumbled over the side of the bathtub onto the floor and gave myself a big bruise -- this was several weeks ago and I still have an ugly brownish splotch as big as a basketball from waist to armpit.

   So (he said, with a wink and knowing cough) you don't have to be old to want to get yourself a proper grab bar. You only have to be my age.

There's Traveling, and then There's Traveling

2013-05-13T10:23:00.001-04:00

     Jeez, it's Monday already!

     B and I don't do a whole lot of traveling, at least not by the standards of many of my blogging friends (hello Bob Lowry, Stephen Hayes, Linda Myers and others!). And when B and I do go on a journey, it's usually by car. To Hilton Head, SC, for example, where we vacationed for a week in April. Or Pennsylvania, for Christmas. Or Cape Cod, where we're decamping for a week in July.

   But my sister is a traveler. She and her husband flew in this past weekend from Phoenix, after making a stop in Washington, DC, and on their way to a reunion of old friends in Boston. They're also planning a trip for July, they tell us, to get away from the Phoenix heat. They're driving to Santa Barbara, then Portland, Seattle and Vancouver, where they're renting a place in the city for a couple of weeks.

     But that's just their run-of-the-mill traveling. The real trip they're planning is a pilgrimage to Spain, to walk the El Camino de Santiago.

     I only heard of the El Camino last year when I saw The Way, a 2010 movie that tells how Tom, an American doctor played by Martin Sheen, learns that his estranged son (played by real son Emilio Estevez) died while walking the El Camino de Santiago. Tom then decides to walk the trail himself to honor his son. He meets several travelers along the way, each of them making the journey for their own reasons, and in the end the doctor comes to terms with his son as well as his own life.

   Apparently, the El Camino goes back to the Middle Ages, when pilgrims traveled from their homes along a number of routes, all converging toward the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, in Galicia in northwestern Spain. The church is reputed to contain the remains of St. James, one of the apostles of Jesus, who traveled to the Iberian peninsula to preach, was ultimately beheaded, and then brought back to be buried at the site.

   The route was particularly popular in the Middle Ages, when it was believed that indulgences could be earned along the way. Over the centuries the pilgrimage slowly lost its appeal, until by the 1980s it was almost forgotten. But in 1987 the Council of Europe declared it one of the first European Cultural Routes, and then UNESCO named it a World Heritage Site. The route began to attract more modern day adventurers from around the world -- people not necessarily going on a religious journey, but who have other reasons to make the trek.

     Presumably the movie further enchanced its appeal. My sister and her husband are going with another couple, who walked a part of the trail two years ago. They're taking their hike in the beginning of October, hopefully, "after the worst of the crowds have gone."

     I guess hiking the El Camino de Santiago has become a standard on many an American bucket list. It's not on mine -- I don't like to fly, and I don't like to go places where I don't speak the language. But still, it sounds like a great destination for the more adventurous wanderers among us.

3 Mythbusters

2013-05-08T10:50:00.000-04:00

     B and I sometimes take dancing lessons, and so we recently signed up for a beginner's class on the West Coast swing. We arrived for the first lesson two weeks ago, and were surprised to find a pretty good turnout of about 12 or 15 couples, including one pair of women.

     B and I were both a little nervous, as you are when starting to learn anything new, so I didn't pay much attention to the other couples. We knew a few of them, and joked around about how we all had two left feet, but other than that B and I focused on trying to get the steps and not embarrass ourselves.

     Nevertheless, I couldn't help but notice the two women dancing together. Both were in their 40s. One was tall and thin, and wore jeans and a shirt, and seemed a little stiff on the dance floor. The other was shorter and curvier, wore softer clothes, and seemed more fluid when she was dancing. Sometimes they danced together, but during dance class we sometimes change partners, and so these two women were dancing with others as well.

     On the way home, B and I reviewed the dance lesson. We felt we had a good time and learned what we had to learn. And we remarked on the lesbian couple; no more than that. But later, I wondered, when we changed partners, did the tall, thin woman dance as the man with other women. Would that be awkward?

     Then I realized I didn't have to worry about it. When we changed partners, I would only end up dancing with the curvier softer woman partner.

     Last week we went back to dance class. We learned a couple of new steps and practiced the old ones, and then we changed partners. "Men," ordered the instructor, "move down, one to the left."

     And so I did. Until a little while later, I stood opposite the taller, thinner woman. She was dancing the lady's part, so there was no awkward pause while we figured out what to do. The woman danced pretty well, and she was very nice and even giggled at a couple of my jokes and complimented me on my moves.

     Later, again on the ride home, B and I reviewed the lesson. I mentioned I had danced with one of the lesbians. "Oh," B said, "they're not lesbians."

   "Huh?"

   "No, I overheard them say that they were friends, but the taller one was volunteering to dance the man's part, just to try to fit in. So she was dancing the man's part with the other woman; but then doing the lady's part when we changed partners."

   So, the conclusion I had leapt to . . . busted!

"I guess times have changed," I remarked to B. "In the old days, we would have assumed that two women together were just friends. Women have always danced together, mostly because they have trouble getting their male partners onto the dance floor. But these days, we assume two women together must be lesbians."

     I don't know if this little anecdote reveals anything, except my own prejudice, but there it is.

     Then yesterday I went to the supermarket. Honestly, B does most of the shopping in our house. But I do buy my own "health and beauty" products, and sometimes B sends me to the store to pick up milk or some ingredient she needs for making dinner or something she's baking for friends at work or church.

Anyway, I was looking for vinegar, and turned the corner and couldn't help but notice this big strapping guy pushing a cart. He stood out because most of the people you see in the store during the day are either women or old men, or else some kind of delivery guy. But this fellow was in his 30s -- a well-built redhead who looked hale and hearty, dressed in expensive casual wear. In the second it took me to "take him in" I figured him for a lawyer or business professional, maybe on a day off. A small child was with him. I couldn't see the kid, who was doing something in front of the man, but he was maybe 5 or 6 years old -- and I assumed he'd be one of these cute tow-headed blue-eyed boys, probably with freckles and a big white smile.

     I leaned over and picked up the vinegar and placed it in my cart. Then I caught the redheaded guy out of the corner of my eye again. I saw the kid. I was surprised because the kid wasn't blonde; he had dark, curly hair. Then he turned around. And I saw he was black. Not really black; but definitely brown-skinned. Hmmm, I wondered, the boy was clearly with the man. Was he adopted? Maybe the man's wife was black? I guess I'll never know. But once again . . . I was busted.

     Finally, B and I were coming out of the strip mall last night. There was a line of traffic backed up, waiting to turn onto the main road. One car a head of us inched out, then another. I waited; then it was our turn. Traffic was backed up. We were turning right, and the light off to the right had turned red.

     Still the traffic was moving, pulling up to the light, so I couldn't move just yet. I'd have to wait to the end of the line. I looked to the right, then to the left. There was an older Ford Mustang, tricked out with some extra big tires and a racing stripe -- a hotrodder of some sort, I thought to myself, figuring I'll certainly have to wait until he goes by.

      I looked through the windshield of the Mustang and caught sight of the driver, a 20-something kid with scraggly facial hair. But instead of the expected scowl, he gave me a polite smile, and he came to a stop. Then he waved me in front of him. Wow, I thought, that's a surprise. One more time, another stereotype . . . busted!

Why Men Love Guns

2013-05-05T11:11:00.001-04:00

     B and I were driving back from Savannah to our vacation house last week when I saw a billboard advertising a shooting range where you can go fire off a military-style machine gun.

     My first reaction was: That's crazy! No wonder why . . . And then about half a second later I realized my pulse had quickened and my thought was: Hey, I bet that's really cool!

     I saw an image in my mind. I was standing at the range like John Wayne or Clint Eastwood, heavy-duty machine gun at my side, blasting away at some vague, ill-defined target.

     Then I shook my head a couple of times. My critical mind took over again, and I asked B sitting next to me: "You see that sign? Isn't that terrible?"

     And of course she agreed. "Why would anyone want to do that?" she asked, completely perplexed that a civilized person would find pleasure in shooting a heavy duty gun, like they're some kind of combat soldier, or in-the-line-of-fire cop . . . or crazed mass murderer.

     And we agreed it's a terrible thing that businesses are out there trying to lure people in to shoot their guns -- powerful, military-style guns designed not to kill people but to destroy them, turn them into an explosion of flesh and blood. We were baffled that the government even allows private businesses to exploit that sick side of people's psyche, the side that wants to get revenge, get even, make others cower and beg and kneel before their superior power.

     And yet, for a milli-second, I too felt the thrill of shooting a gun. (The last time I actually shot a gun was when I was about 14, in the woods in back of my uncle's house.) And, not a wimpy .22 caliber single-shot rifle. But a big military-style piece of equipment. And I admit, the appeal was the power. Me, standing there, not taking any shit from anybody, suddenly in control of the world. Like Superman. Or Iron Man. Or Arnold Schwarzenegger.

     And then, of course, I realized why the NRA and the so-called "gun nuts" are hardly interested in protecting the right of an American citizen to own a simple hunting rifle. They don't want a simple gun to hunt any more than the people who climb up into their 4-wheel-drive Hummers or Land Rovers want their behemoths to take them through the desert or up into the mountains. They want them because they want to feel the power. Because where else in this overly organized, corporatized, bureaucratized world of ours are you going to feel like you control the world, like people will listen to you, like you own the place?

New movie; same old violence

   Coincidentally, I happened to hear part of a report on Bloomberg radio about guns. They pointed out that not all gun owners are the stereotype of either the stupid Southern Redneck or the black gangbanger. They interviewed a dentist from Atlanta who owns an AR-15. He seemed very innocent. He didn't like to play golf, he explained; he liked to go to the shooting range instead. He found it very relaxing. Took his mind off his work and his everyday problems.

     But why not a simple rifle for target practice. Why did he need a semi-automatic AR-15 that could shoot more than a dozen rounds a minute?

     "Because it's cool, man!"

     It turns out that part of the appeal of the AR-15 -- the weapon used in mass murders from Aurora to Newtown; and a weapon favored by some hunters -- is that it offers a whole range of add-ons, many designed to make the weapon actually look worse than it really is. In other words, it makes people feel even more powerful when it's tricked out with all its extra options.

   I don't know. I personally don't feel the need to own a gun. I hate violence. I was a victim of some violence when I was much younger, and I know how painful, humiliating and debilitating it is. But my brush with violence only confirmed my pacifism. The last fist fight I got into was in 5th grade. (And I lost.)

     But I also understand how modern Americans have lost their individuality. Corporations only care about your credit score and what zip code you live in. The government only cares about your ethnicity and your taxable income. Modern man has been so emasculated, so trivialized, so marginalized, that we at times want to stand up and say, "I'm here! Pay attention! Don't mess with me!"

     I guess I'm just sayin' . . . if you feel that way, maybe instead of going out and buying an AR-15, you could go see Iron Man 3 instead.

Remember Him?

2013-05-03T08:20:00.000-04:00

He came from the north country. Minnesota to be exact. Born in Duluth on May 26, 1941.

His paternal grandparents, Zigman and Anna Zimmerman, immigrated to America from Odessa, after the anti-Semitic pogroms in Russia in 1905; his material grandparents came from Lithuania. His parents, Abram and Beatrice, were part of a close-knit Jewish community in Duluth, until Abram contracted polio and the family moved to a small town in the iron-ore producing Mesabi Range, 80-some miles northwest of Duluth.

In high school he played in several bands, imitating Little Richard and Elvis Presley. Once, when his band performed "Rock 'n Roll is Here to Stay" at a high school talent show, the principle cut off the microphone claiming the band was too loud. In his senior year, using the name Elston Gunnn (yes, 3 n's), he earned $15 a night -- but only for a couple of nights -- playing piano with fellow teenager and aspiring rock musician Bobby Vee.

University of Minnesota

   He graduated from high school in 1959, moved to Minneapolis and enrolled at the University of Minnesota. He started playing at a local coffeehouse called Ten O'Clock Scholar, where his interest in rock 'n roll expanded to folk music. He was influenced by Woody Guthrie and Hank Williams, later recalling, "The thing about rock 'n roll is that for me anyway it wasn't enough ... There were great catch-phrases and driving pulse rhythms, but the songs weren't serious or didn't reflect life in a realistic way. I knew that when I got into folk music, it was more of a serious thing. The songs are filled with more despair, more sadness, more triumph ... much deeper feelings."

   At the end of his freshman year he dropped out of college, and a few months later decided to travel to New York City to see if he could meet his musical idol Woodie Guthrie. He arrived in New York, decamped in Greenwich Village, then journeyed out to a hospital in New Jersey where he succeeded in meeting the folk legend who at the time was seriously ill from Huntington's disease. The young man, just 20 years old, vowed to become Guthrie's greatest disciple.

   Those of you who know your rock 'n roll history probably already know who this iconic singer/songwriter is. Soon the whole world would know, as he began to play and sing in Greenwich Village clubs, and hang out with fellow folksingers Dave Van Ronk, Odetta, the Clancy Brothers, Joan Baez.

   In 1962 he released his first album, consisting mostly of covers of standard folk tunes. The record landed with a thud, selling only 5000 copies and barely breaking even. Then using the name Bob Landy he contributed to a blues album, and as Tedham Porterhouse he played harmonica on a record for Ramblin' Jack Elliott, another disciple of Woodie Guthrie.

     His second album was released in May 1963, and this time his record featured original songs, including "Blowin' in the Wind" and "A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall." The album was called The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan and proved a breakthrough of historic proportions.

50 years ago

     Some critics were put off by the rough edge of Bob Dylan's voice, but he found many admirers among his contemporaries, including The Beatles, and soon many musical acts were begging to record his songs, from Peter, Paul and Mary to the Byrds and the Beatles themselves.

     Bob Dylan's third album, The Times They Are a-Changin' reflected a more political side of the songwriter, and then in 1965 he stunned the music world at the Newport Jazz Festival by bringing out an electric guitar. He released Bringing It All Back Home, which featured recordings with electronic instruments, and then he put out a single "Like a Rolling Stone," which proved to be his biggest hit and was ranked by Rolling Stone Magazine as the Number 1 "Greatest Song of All Time."

     There's lots more to the Bob Dylan story, of course. There are several books out by and about Bob Dylan, including Dylan's own memoir Chronicles: Volume One, and the definitive book on his early career, No Direction Home by New York Times critic Robert Shelton. In 2005 movie director Martin Scorsese produced a Dylan documentary, again focusing on his early years and also called No Direction Home.

     And yes, Bob Dylan is still alive and well and touring. If you want to go see for yourself, he's appearing this weekend in Charleston, SC, and St. Augustine, FL, and again in June in Palm Beach, Tampa, Atlanta and Nashville. For his complete tour dates go to his website bobdylan.com.

     Meantime, here's Dylan in Madison Square Garden at the 1971 Concert for Bangladesh, singing "A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall" from his breakthrough album of 50 years ago.

Life-or-Death Question

2013-04-30T07:19:00.000-04:00

While on vacation I read about a woman named Susan Spencer-Wendel, a former reporter for the Palm Beach Post who, at age 44, found out she had ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease. The illness causes your nerves to die off, progressing inevitably, from muscle to muscle, until you're paralyzed and you eventually die. There is no cure, no effective treatment. It is a death sentence, and a horrible one at that.

Spencer-Wendel has a website and a facebook page. And she's written a book, Until I Say Good-Bye, published last month. According to amazon, everyone loves this book. It chronicles her journey as she first notices a weakness in her left hand, then goes to see several doctors, stays in denial for a whole year; and finally gets her official diagnosis. She contemplates suicide, but determines to live instead, and follow her dreams. (For a different experience, see my previous post The Night Visitor.)

How could anyone not like her book? Well, I read it, and it turns out that the author dreams mostly about traveling, and bores us (or me at least) with extensive accounts of trips to Alaska, Hungary, California, Cyprus, and who knows where else.

But there is one very affecting episode, when she takes her daughter Marina to New York to attend a friend's wedding. Mother and daughter visit Kleinfeld's, the fancy wedding store featured on the TV program "Say Yes to the Dress." Marina is only 14. But the young teenager is game to try on a wedding dress -- and show herself off as the bride her mother will never get to see.

One other item caught my eye. At one point Spencer-Wendel makes the statement: "When I think of which role is worse -- to be the spouse dying or the spouse surviving -- I think it's the latter. The survivor will experience the same grief, will live the grief of the children, then must assume the responsibilities and slog on."

     I know my reaction to her point of view. What's yours? Maybe it's different depending on whether you're a man or a woman, since most women expect to outlive their husband, watch him die, and then live on as a widow. It's a natural part of life for a woman, not usually for a man (although my own dad outlived my mother by two years -- but he's the exception that proves the rule).

     Admittedly it's a distressing subject, but I'd be interested to hear what you think. I remember my mother, who admittedly had health problems later in life, wanted to be the first to go. And she was. My father raged against the dying of the light -- even at age 91 he desperately wanted to keep living and couldn't believe he had a fatal disease.

     Anyway, Susan Spencer-Wendel is one brave woman, as is her husband John as well as their three children. There's much to admire about her. And from now on, every morning when I wake up, I will thank God, the Universe and the Fates that I don't have ALS.

New Movies for Grownups

2013-04-26T08:38:00.001-04:00

Remember last year's Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, the movie that put the senior audience on the map? B and I recently saw another one, also, called Hope Springs with Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones, about a long-married couple trying to put some zest back in their relationship. It wasn't as good as Marigold. But it did get a good performance out of Steve Carell as the marriage counselor.

     Now I came across an article in USA Today called "A Perfect 10 for Boomers" -- dubbed 10 Summer Films NOT About Superheroes on their website -- recommending a whole list of upcoming movies geared to the older audience. Since you may not have seen the article (as I've noted before, it seems the only time anyone sees USA Today is when they're traveling) I thought I'd pass on the suggesions.

     The article actually comes up with 11 new movies directed toward the more mature audience, starting with The Big Wedding, which opens today, Friday.

     The movie features an all-star cast including Robert DeNiro, Katherine Heigl, Diane Keaton, Amanda Seyfried and Susan Sarandon. The plot revolves around a long-divorced couple (DeNiro and Keaton) who pretend to still be married as their family reunites for a wedding.

     It sounds like it could be a fun romantic comedy if you like DeNiro, Keaton and the others. Personally, I've liked Susan Sarandon ever since I saw her in 1975 prancing around in her underpants for The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Oh, and I don't mind Katherine Heigl either.

     One of the movies that sounds promising to me is Now You See Me, coming out at the end of May. The plot sounds a little weird -- an FBI agent enlists some magic to stop a bank robbery -- but the movie stars two actors I like: Morgan Freeman and Mark Ruffalo.

     Fans of the 2010 movie Red might like Red 2, with Bruce Willis, Helen Mirrin and Anthony Hopkins, coming out late in July. And I, myself, am still a Woody Allen fan, despite his checkered career (not to mention his checkered personal life), and so I'm looking forward to Blue Jasmine starring Cate Blanchett and Alec Baldwin and featuring the new hip comedian Louis C. K. The Woody Allen movie also hits the multiplex in July.

     But don't rely on my recommendations. Go take a look at the Summer Films article on the USA Today website and make out your movie plans for the summer.

Where Am I Now?

2013-04-24T08:46:00.000-04:00

Anyone who saw my last post has figured out that I'm taking a little R&R in the Carolinas. We came for the beach, but unfortunately the weather has not been cooperating. It's been cool and cloudy -- okay for walking on the beach, but not for sitting on the beach. Swimming? Forget about it. ("This is highly unusual," everyone keeps telling us. "It's supposed to be summer by now.")

So yesterday we decided to go to see the historic city that's only about an hour's drive from where we're staying. Can you figure out where we went? Remember, we came to the Carolinas. But, careful ... it's a trick question.


In case you can't see it, that's a Pirate House

You thought I was kidding. I think that's a real pirate!

A cobblestone street leads down to the river

There's a modern suspension bridge

And a modern convention center

Historic River Street

We went to Huey's, a Cajun restaurant, but it's surely not New Orleans

The famous Cotton Exchange

It's a city of squares, this is Johnson Square

City Hall

So what do you think? Can you figure out what city this is? It's an historic city. On a river. We're vacationing in the Carolinas. But as I told you, there's a trick. So, it's . . .

Where's Tom Sightings?

2013-04-19T07:28:00.001-04:00

I'm taking a little vacation. (Hey, I'm retired, I can go on vacation whenever I want!). I'll give you one guess where I'm going ...

I'm not leaving until tomorrow. But, "In my mind, I'm already gone . . . ."

10 Best Places to Retire … If You Can Afford It

2013-04-16T14:51:00.000-04:00

If you remember, a couple of weeks ago I asked for ideas and suggestions about good places to retire for this article I was doing for U.S. News retirement site. So here are the results based on my own experience, some research I did, and the input from you guys.

I did get some comments. A few of them were nasty (as they always are on the Internet), including one that said the writer is mentally handicapped (and people wonder why I don't use my real name on my blog). Some other comments were helpful, a couple were funny. I've added a selection of choice responses, in italics, where I thought they had any informative or entertainment value. Although several people offered a general comment, like: "Coincidentally, this is my exact top ten places not to live or retire in."

Um ... maybe you have a few choice comments of your own, which is okay, because as many people have emphasized time and time again, the best place to retire is always up to the individual, and where their family lives, and what climate and activities they enjoy.

Anyway, for your consideration . . .

Most retirement sites use affordability as a top criteria in choosing best places to retire – as though retirees are spending their last dollar. But recent figures show the over-60 set is among the wealthiest groups in America, with lower levels of poverty than average and greater numbers of millionaires.

Quaint Cape Cod

Of course, plenty of Baby Boomers may never want to move, either because they can't afford to, or they want to stay near children and grandchildren. But many are eager to relocate, and don't want to go economy class. They know a high cost of living often indicates that a place is desirable, so people are willing to pay top dollar to live there.

You don't have to be a 1 percenter to consider the following retirement destinations. But they all sport a cost of living above the national average of 100, so you should have a few extra dollars in your pocket.

Cape Cod, MA. Located less than a hundred miles southeast of Boston, this spit of sand where the Pilgrims stopped off before continuing to Plymouth Rock offers many miles of seashore and over a dozen charming New England towns. CC enjoys mild winters (for New England), cool summers, and lots of golf, boating, art, history and summer festivals. The town of Chatham, for example, has an upscale main street, picturesque lighthouse and local airport. Cost of Living Index: 145.

New York, NY. You don't need a car in this mecca for the culturally inclined, and there are plenty of elevators which makes the city surprisingly accommodating to the disabled. The Upper West Side, between Lincoln Center and Columbia University, offers all the culture you could want, including Tom's Restaurant of Seinfeld fame. Cost of Living Index: 170.

One person responded simply: "Who would retire in New York?" The person got a number of "Likes" and only one or two responses extolling the virtues of New York. The simple fact of the matter is that New York is a unique place, and some people love it, a lot of people hate it, and even more people (like me) think it's a great place to visit but they wouldn't want to live there.

What's wrong with Washington?

Washington, DC. Summers are hot and muggy, but that's a small price to pay for the cultural, educational and historic attractions available at no or low cost. The Metro doesn't go everywhere, like the New York subways do, but it provides fast, comfortable transportation. Cathedral Heights and Cleveland Park both offer high-rise apartment buildings on the avenues, and charming old houses on tree-lined streets. Cost of Living: 145.

I expected some blow back on New York, but was surprised at the enmity toward Washington (a place I would love to retire ... if I could afford it, which I can't). One reader said: "Being retired in NYC or DC is great motivation to die quickly." And an anonymous person replied, "I would rather spend the rest of eternity in hell than retire in either New York or DC." Yet another commented wryly: "I especially like New York and Washington. Why not Detroit?"

Hilton Head, SC. The island, 40 miles from Savannah, GA, features beautiful wide beaches, lots of golf, and a series of upscale retirement communities. HHI is a bit off the beaten track, but there's a branch of the University of South Carolina in nearby Beaufort, and your family will surely beat a track to your door come spring break. Sea Pines Plantation is host to the annual Heritage Classic golf tournament. Cost of Living: 135.

Naples, FL – Some people tout upscale Sarasota a hundred miles to the north for its cultural attractions, but Naples is even more upscale, with its own botanical gardens, museum of art, philharmonic center – and more golf holes per capita than any other town in America. Naples is not as remote as many people think: less than two hours by car to Ft. Lauderdale, and nearby Marco Island offers a high-speed ferry to Key West. Cost of Living Index: 160.

Several people agreed that Naples would be a wonderful retirement destination; many offered other Florida alternatives such as Clearwater, Venice, Vero Beach. So why is it that I can't get my beloved B to even visit Florida? She hates Florida. Some people do.

Skies Over Scottsdale

Austin, TX – Located on the edge of the beautiful Texas Hill Country, Austin is known for the University of Texas, the state capital, and its world-class music scene. Georgetown, 30 miles north, features Victorian architecture, picturesque walking and biking trails, and the Center for Lifelong Learning at Southwestern University. Cost of Living: 105.

Again, nobody objected to Austin. Several people also suggested South Padre Island and other spots along the Texas Gulf coast ... and who could argue with them?

Scottsdale, AZ – A perfect place if you like a desert climate, with plenty of golf, tennis and hiking. Bonus: it's near Phoenix, but not in Phoenix. Arizona State University is located in Tempe, just south of Scottsdale, offering cultural and educational opportunities as well as Pac-12 athletics. Paradise Valley is home to famous retirees Muhammad Ali and Sandra Day O'Connor, while Anthem to the north is ten degrees cooler than the city. Cost of Living: 120.

San Diego, CA – The climate offers mild winters, with an average high of 50 degrees, and equally mild summers, with an average high of 76. The downtown Marina district

Sunset in San Diego

has been revitalized with a new stadium, an art museum, and a lively theater and restaurant scene. La Jolla, Encinitas and Carlsbad are jewels that dot the coast north of the city. Cost of Living: 145.

Everyone loves San Diego -- even the person who said he was a native of Northern California and would never leave.

Bellingham, WA – This city, 90 miles north of Seattle and 50 miles south of Vancouver, Canada, boasts more sunny days than Portland or Seattle, yet also offers a mild climate that rarely brings a frost. It has fewer doctors per capita than its larger neighbors, but boasts better air quality and less traffic. It's also the home of Western Washington University, and near the beautiful San Juan islands. Cost of Living: 125.

One person objected, saying Bellingham has a high crime rate. Another responded: "No it doesn't."

Hawaii – It's a long way from San Jose, but as one person said: “How long does it take to get used to living in Hawaii? About 20 seconds.” Honolulu, with a population of about 380,000, spreads along the coast on Oahu. The island of Maui offers a more laid back lifestyle. Best place to live? Anywhere near the ocean … again, if you can afford it. Cost of Living: 185.

So, go figure. Opinions are like noses. Everybody has one. Which all circles back to the truism that the best place for you to retire is where you have friends, family, and a reason for being there. But still, there's no harm in making some suggestions, throwing out some ideas. Just because we're getting older doesn't mean we're still not restless Americans, ready for the next adventure.

Best of the Boomer Blogs

2013-04-14T10:41:00.000-04:00

     As April 15 dawns, you may be focusing on your taxes. But we here at the Best of Boomer Blogs have lifted our sights to higher goals, from the simple wisdom of Winnie the Pooh, to the bittersweet experience of emptying out a dear aunt's home, to the ... er, everyday performance of your favorite (or least favorite) airline.

     Take a quick flyover of what's on Baby Boomer minds this week:

     Laura Lee, aka the Midlife Crisis Queen, has been thinking about what changes we undergo as we approach late midlife. In her latest blog post she discusses a new book by Carol Orsborn, about transitioning from a successful career to the wild spaces beyond 60.

     John Agno of So Baby Boomer has come upon a few Secrets that Boomers Don't Want You to Know, and offers a list of some things we've been hiding. (So what do you think: Do you harbor any secrets about your money, your health, your comfort level with technology?)

On The Survive and Thrive Boomer Guide, Rita R. Robison, consumer journalist, covers a performance survey of the nation's 14 largest airlines. Top spot goes to ... drum roll please: Virgin America. What came in at the bottom? You'll have to make the connection over to her blog to find out. But the good news is that the researchers found overall performance for the airlines in 2012 was the second highest in the 23 years the survey has been conducted.

Meanwhile, Sara Cornell of LifeAfterMarried and BlueBlindsMedia gets more personal. In her post Going, Going, Gone ... she writes about the feeling of loss and liberation she experienced as she emptied her late aunt's house in preparation for putting it on the market.

And so what about Winnie the Pooh? Most people think of the chubby little Pooh as a playful, silly bear, a character in a children's book. But in her latest blog post, What Winnie the Pooh Can Teach Us, Lisa Garon Froman of Tao Flashes makes the argument that Winnie the Pooh was actually very wise ... and has some important things to teach us grownups about living a life of joy and simplicity.

I'm a ... What?

2013-04-11T08:04:00.000-04:00

     On Sunday afternoon I was driving home on Route 202, a narrow state road that curves through the trees and winds around a reservoir.

     I was trundling along, minding my own business, when I suddenly noticed bright headlights flashing in my rear-view mirror. I took a closer look and saw a large black SUV filling up the mirror. The car had come out of nowhere, and now was tailgating me, close enough so the headlights were distracting me in my mirror.

     I admit I am a slow driver. I try to drive about 5 mph over the speed limit -- which in modern-day American marks me as a slowpoke. Sometimes when it's dark or rainy I can (horrors!) even dip below the speed limit. So I glanced at my speedometer. I was doing 45 mph. What was the speed limit on this section of 202 anyway? To be honest, I wasn't sure.

     So, between quick glances up into my mirror to see if this guy was going to rear-end me, I looked for the next speed-limit sign. There it was: 40 mph.

     I was doing 5 mph over the speed limit.

     I couldn't help but pay attention to the guy behind me, as his lights bounced and wavered in my rear-view mirror, and the big black grille of the SUV looked like it might bump into me at any moment. He was close enough so I could see that the driver was a middle age guy, light brown hair, balding. He had the swollen face of a guy maybe 40 or 50 pounds overweight. Beside him was a woman. And I could see a third person in the car, in their backseat. It looked like a child, but I didn't take my eyes off the road in front of me long enough to ascertain whether the kid was a boy or a girl.

     The guy kept on my tail. When we went around a fairly sharp curve, he dropped back a little. I assume that's because I drive a fairly responsive, somewhat sporty sedan than corners pretty well, while he's in a big oversized SUV that leans and wavers when it takes the curves. On the next straightaway he was right back on my rear end, between one and two car lengths behind me. Sitting up high. Was he glowering at me, or was I just imagining it? I checked my speed again. Steady at 45 mph. I spied another speed limit sign. Still 40 mph.

     We traveled like this for three or four miles -- maybe five minutes. I was tempted to speed up -- after all, that's clearly what my tailgater wanted me to do, as (in his mind) I had the audacity to slow him down. But I resisted. I told myself that I shouldn't let this guy pressure me into going faster than I felt was safe.

     I was also tempted to slow down, just to annoy the guy as much as he was annoying me. But I resisted that temptation as well. I needed to be mature about this, didn't want to stoop to his level.

     Finally we got to a red light at a T intersection. I was turning left, and came to a stop. He pulled out to my right, halfway onto the shoulder of the road, slowed down and made the right hand turn. He didn't stop, as required by law; he rolled through the red light. As he did, I glanced over at him. I'm sure I must have had a disapproving look on my face. How could I not? But I didn't say anything; didn't make any gesture; didn't have any obvious look on my face.

     He gave me an angry stare and said something. Our windows were closed, so I couldn't hear it. But it didn't take a professional lip reader to discern the epithet he threw my way. "Asshole!" is what he said.

     For a millisecond my reaction was confusion. Was I an "asshole" for obeying the speed limit? For getting in his way? Then I wondered what message he was sending to his wife and child -- tailgating a guy who was going over the speed limit, obviously getting upset, and then calling the other driver an "asshole."

     Still stopped at the red light, I looked at the back of his car, turning the corner. He was basically gone at this point, heading north, getting ready to harass somebody else. Still, I couldn't help myself. I gave him the finger.

10 Lessons You Learn By Doing Your Taxes

2013-04-06T08:32:00.000-04:00

Most people do not do their own taxes. They throw up their hands, decide it's too complicated and run to an accountant or H & R Block. A lot of people use electronic services such as Turbotax. This is kind of like doing it yourself, but the electronic process does hide some details of the tax system and how it affects you.

I have always done my own taxes -- except for a couple of years when I tiptoed into an accountant's office and found out they don't necessarily do a better job, and they charge you a pretty penny for the service. I have also used Turbotax, but find that it doesn't always make life easier.

While it does take some time, and the process is not entirely painless, doing your own taxes can provide an educational experience. I'm not talking about practicing your arithmetic skills. I mean you find out what the government is really encouraging you to do (despite what it says) and what it really penalizes.

In short, you find out how the world really works.

Here are ten lessons I learned in doing my own taxes over the last couple of weeks.

1. The Federal tax system penalizes workers. Not only do you pay the highest rates on the income you earn, but you also pay Social Security (aka payroll) tax of about 7% on yor salary. Your employer pays an additional 7% -- which means, at least theoretically, they could pay you 7% more if they weren't giving that money to the government. But wait ... the government likes you if you make a lot of money -- once you earn more than $113,700 a year, the government no longer takes its cut of 14%.

2. The Federal government wants you to invest in the stock market. Some of the money you make from capital gains -- the profit from selling a stock for more more than you bought it for -- doesn't get taxed at all. The rest is taxed at a lower rate than the money you make on your job. Most stock dividends are taxed at a lower rate as well.

3. You're a sucker if you have a savings account, or buy a bond. The interest rate you receive from a corporate or government bond, or a regular savings account, is the lowest it's been in decades. It's below the rate of inflation, which means you are actually losing money. The IRS doesn't care. It taxes the little bit of interest you earn at its regular rate, meaning you lose even more money.

4. The IRS can't make up its mind about real estate. Real estate investors can take advantage of certain tax breaks, such as depreciation; but are excluded from others. Rental income is taxed at the full rate, as opposed to stock dividends which get preferential treatment. Bottom line: Investing in real estate can be a good deal, but it's not for everyone.

5. Or owning a business. Again, many tax breaks are available to people who work for themselves, such as deductions for "travel and entertainment." But there are drawbacks as well. For one, you have to pay both the employer's and the employee's part of the Social Security tax. And the tax-filing process can be confusing and complicated, requiring obsessive record keeping and mind-numbing calculations.

6. But it does want you to save for retirement. The government offers a wide (some would say overly complicated) array of options -- such as the IRA, the Roth IRA, the SEP IRA, the 401(k) plan – which allow you to escape, or at least defer, taxes on your retirement savings.

7. It wants you to get health insurance through your business, but not on your own. The IRS doesn't tax the income you use to pay for health-insurance premiums, but only if you get medical insurance at your workplace or through your own business. If you buy medical insurance on your own ... no tax break for you!

8. And the government will cut you a break if you're sick. You can deduct out-of-pocket medical expenses that exceed 7.5% of your income.

9. The government wants you to go to college. There are several ways to deduct a portion of college tuition on your Federal tax form, and many states offer tax breaks for educational expenses as well. The 529 College Savings Plan is a relatively simple and easy way to avoid taxes on money you put aside for college.

10. The government really doesn't want you to do your own taxes. The Federal tax code reportedly runs 70,000 pages or more (people can't even agree on how long it is), and details all kinds of rules, regulations, breaks and penalties. Plus many more pages at your state level. And if you ever get audited, the government will want to inspect all your records and backup materials. The whole process is way too complicated for the average person. The IRS really wants you to pay an expert, who is more likely to get it right, and who will do it electronically.

Remember Her?

2013-04-03T13:44:00.000-04:00

     She was born in Tennessee on Feb. 29, Leap Year's day in 1916. Her parents were Jewish immigrants from Russia. Her father, Solomon, was a dry goods merchant who, in 1924, opened his own department store in McMinnville, Tenn., southeast of Nashville.

     The young girl, named Frances Rose, contracted polio at the age of two. The treatment at the time was bed rest; so she convalesced at home while her parents supplied their own home-grown intensive care. Fanny Rose survived, but came out of her ordeal with a deformed foot and a slight limp.

   She was a shy child, but she loved to sing, and was encouraged by her mother who had dreamed of becoming an opera star. Her father brought her into his store, where she would sing for customers, and one time, at age 14, she took the stage at a nightclub in Nashville.

     Her mother died unexpectedly of a heart attack when Fanny Rose was 16. She put her singing on hold while she finished high school, where despite a lingering limp she took part in sports and joined the cheerleading squad. She went to Vanderbilt University where she resumed singing, and for at least one summer she traveled to New York to audition for several orchestras and radio stations.

     After graduating from college in 1938, Fanny Rose moved to New York, where she made the rounds of auditions. She landed a job with an orchestra, became a vocalist for WNEW radio, and signed a recording contract with RCA records.

     She became a regular on a number of different radio shows during the 1940s and recorded several Number #1 hits, including "I'll Walk Alone," "Anniversary Song," and "Buttons and Bows."

     She made her first TV appearance in 1949 on "The Ed Wynn Show" and in 1950 made a guest appearance on Bob Hope's first television show. In the meantime, Fanny Rose had picked up another name. In many of her early auditions she sang the popular song "Dinah" and then she recorded a number called "Dinah's Blues." The name stuck, and she became known not as Fanny Rose Shore, but as Dinah Shore.

     In 1951 she scored her own TV show, The Dinah Shore Show. In 1956 she won the first of many Emmys for the show, which was famously sponsored by Chevrolet. The sponsor's jingle "See the U.S.A. in Your Chevrolet" soon became Dinah Shore's signature song.

     The Dinah Shore Show, under several different formats, ran until 1963. The variety show featured all the top talent of the time, from Ella Fitzgerald to Frank Sinatra to Nat King Cole and Barbra Streisand.

     From 1970 through 1980, Dinah Shore hosted two daytime programs that featured interviews, demonstrations and musical numbers, including some more contemporary acts such as David Bowie and Iggy Pop.

     Dinah Shore was also an avid golfer, and in 1972 helped found the Dinah Shore-Colgate golf tournament, which in its current identity as the Kraft Nabisco Championship remains one of the major golf tournaments on the LPGA tour. The tournament is being played this week in Rancho Mirage, CA.

     Shore was married to actor George Montgomery from 1943 to 1962, and she dated a number of Hollywood luminaries, including a much-publicized romance in the 1970s with the 20-year-younger Burt Reynolds.

   Today Dinah Shore, who died in 1994, is as much remembered for a weekend as she is for her long-ago singing career. The first unofficial Dinah Shore weekend took place in 1986, when women flocked to Palm Springs for the Dinah Shore golf tournament. Primarily a social event, the gathering nevertheless raised money to support human rights and fight the AIDS epidemic.

     The Dinah Shore Weekend -- now known simply as The Dinah -- soon became a platform to mobilize the lesbian community around social issues and humanitarian projects. This year's "largest girl party in the world" takes place in Palm Springs, CA, from April 3 - 7. It features pop sensation Karmin, as well as Havana Brown, Diana King and other musical acts, and comedians Fortune Feimster, Jackie Loeb and others. Participants will also pony up for a celebrity poker tournament, to raise money for the Human Rights Campaign.

     No word on whether 77-year-old Burt Reynolds will make an appearance.

Dinah Shore sings "Buttons and Bows" her No. 1 hit from 1948.

And, below, something from Karmin, who's appearing at The Dinah this coming weekend.